


Thirty Minutes or Less

by kissmelikeapirate



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 00:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3229346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissmelikeapirate/pseuds/kissmelikeapirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Storybrooke AU. Emma Swan is the overworked detective at Storybrooke PD who never has time to cook. Killian Jones is new in town, happens to be very hot and delivers hot pizza, in thirty minutes or less. Perfect for a little crush - right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pizza with a side of hot English guy

Boots off, belt tossed aside, hair tie out and keys on the table by the door.

It was a ritual performed every night. Sometimes as early as seven pm, but usually around nine. Twelve-plus hour shifts left little energy for niceties when arriving home for Emma Swan.

When she'd taken the job as detective at Storybrooke Police Department she had been expecting an easier life. Leaving behind the hustle and bustle of Boston city life and heading for a small town, way up in northern Maine, seemed just the ticket after almost burning out in her last year working homicide. But for a small town Storybrooke had a surprisingly high rate of crime. Herself and Sheriff Humbert were barely able to keep up with the caseload and often she brought paperwork home to finish as she threw down a meal and drank her usual glass of wine.

Sighing, she checked her watch: nine-thirty already. Slowly she walked over to the refrigerator to check the contents.

"Hmm," she frowned. A half empty pack of salami slices, a shrivelled looking apple, a suspicious looking hunk of cheese and a carton of - she picked it up and pulled it to her nose, yuck - sour milk.

Pulling a glass from the drainer, she turned the lever of the faucet and filled it with cold water. Nothing to eat, as usual. She was awful at grocery shopping; she usually had breakfast at the local diner while going over open cases with Graham and lunch was a take out sandwich, or soup in the winter. She couldn't actually remember the last time she had cooked a real meal in her suspiciously clean kitchen.

Just then, her stomach let out a pleading grumble.

She bit her lip and tugged open the small drawer under the countertop beside the fridge. It was filled to the brim with takeout menus: for such a small place Storybrooke had its fair share of eateries. Sifting through the pile she discarded all the Asian food - she'd had Chinese every day last week and that had not been her greatest idea. Briefly she considered calling The Tasty Taco - they did the best fajitas this side of New York, but then she coloured at the memory of her last order: they had her choices memorised now and she was even on first name basis with Carlos, the delivery guy. And for a woman who didn't do close personal situations, that was a bit much.

Finally she settled on Liam's Slicery. It was new; the menu had arrived on her doorstep a couple of days earlier, so no chance of the knowing 'you've ordered here a hundred times already' look when the pizza came. And it had been at least two weeks since she had had pizza and she was craving a slice of good old pepperoni.

She dialled quickly. "Liam's Slicery, can I take your order?"

Initially she was taken aback. Instead of the expected, soft Maine tones, the speaker's accent was clearly British; clear, crisp and just a little sexy.

Fumbling her way through through her choices, she twisted her fingers around the spiral cable of the kitchen phone (the apartment was a little outdated), barely registering the cheerful reply of, "Thank you for your order, it will be with you in thirty minutes or less!"

Not enough time for a soak in the tub but plenty to get changed and to start work on a glass of wine (there may be no food, but there was always wine in the apartment).

In between yawns, she slipped on her favourite flannel pajamas - the blue ones with little pink moons and stars that she didn't have the heart to throw out, even though the pants were at least two inches two short now and the patch pocket was gradually falling away from the rest of the shirt.

While she waited she poured her wine, sifted though the mail (all junk) and flicked on the TV. Local cable was pretty awful even by her standards - mostly documentaries about shipping and badly acted TV movies. Eventually she settled on a channel showing reruns of Seinfeld.

Somewhere in between the wine and finally being able to sit down after a day on her feet, she fell asleep. When the doorbell rang, she shot up, cursing under her breath when the glass tipped over lap and wine soaked instantly into the flannel.

"Just a second!" she called as she ran to the kitchen and balled up some paper towels, blotting the stain but then stubbing her toe on a discarded boot so that she ended up hobbling the last few feet to the door. "Sorry, I-"

The words died in her throat as she flung the door open. Mr tall, dark and handsome was stood an arms reach away, pizza box in hand a cocky, yet definitely appealing, smile on his face.

She swallowed and licked her lips.

Crap, crap, CRAP!

"Not to worry lass, take your time."

And he had a sexy-ass voice to go with the hot looks - the same accent but even silkier than the one at the end of the phone. Typical.

Her cheeks burned as she thought of her stained pajamas, mussed up hair and no doubt, make up that had half slid off her face.

"I, er…" she stammered, giving a quick smile as she went to find her purse.

Shit, shit, shit… Of course, the first attractive guy she had met in months would turn up at her door when she looked like this.

"Ten dollars," he called after her. She pulled out her only note and turned back to him.

She saw his eyes flit to the stain on her pyjamas. "It's wine," she blurted out, almost tossing the note at him in her desire to extricate herself from the situation.

"Hard day?" he asked, handing over the cardboard box as he sifted through his pockets for change.

Great. He probably now though she was some kind of lush…

"Yeah. Kinda…" she lamely replied.

As the seconds ticked by she felt more and more self conscious. She'd been expecting a teenager with an acne problem, not a gorgeous British man with come fuck me eyes and a cheeky smile. "You can keep the change," she blurted out.

"No, that's far too much love, I couldn't-"

"Seriously," she insisted, "It's fine."

He cocked his eyebrow and gave her a small curious smile. "Well, if you insist - Miss Swan," he replied, looking at the receipt where her name and address was scrawled in black Sharpie across the top.

"Emma," she nodded, starting to close the door.

"Killian," he replied, "Killian Jones," he replied through the narrowing gap.

Killian Jones, she sighed as she turned the latch and trudged to the kitchen to find a plate, nice to meet you…

Seven-thirty am sharp and she was in her usual booth at Granny's, a stack of pancakes and a cinnamon topped hot chocolate in front of her. Spooning the syrup-coated confection into her mouth, she flicked through the large stack of brown, manilla folders she had just picked up from the office. Theft. Missing persons. Drunken brawls outside The Rabbit Hole. The usual.

She picked up her hot chocolate just in time to see Sheriff Humbert step though the door. Handsome as ever, he sported an eternally dishevelled look which she had yet to master - his worn-in leather jacket and ruffled hair adding to the smouldering smile he gave to the waitress, Ruby, as he crossed the threshold.

"Hey," she called as he sauntered towards her.

"Morning Emma," he quipped as he sat, giving Ruby a nod to bring over his usual as Emma pushed a file at him.

He stuck his tongue into his cheek as he flicked through the sheets of legal paper inside. The file was about the theft of two horses from a farm on the outskirts of town, normal enough stuff. She took a second to study his good looks and reminded herself about the little crush she had had on him when she had first moved here, six month earlier. The crush that lasted all of about a week until she had realised they were more like teasing siblings than potential anything more. It had been a little disappointing - a romance certainly would have eased the transition to a new life, but at the same time hooking up with a workmate could only real ever end badly.

"Fine," he smiled as his plate of bacon and eggs arrived alongside a steaming cup of coffee, "Let's head out there first."

"Good," Emma agreed, sipping her spiced hot chocolate as he worked on his breakfast.

One thing she had learned about Sheriff Graham Humbert was that he knew everything about the comings and goings of the residents of Storybrooke. He was like the unofficial grapevine of the town: nothing escaped his notice. And she was dying to ask him about the mysterious Killian Jones.

"So," she sighed as she pushed the remains of a pancake across her plate with her fork, "Did you have a good evening?"

"Same old, same old Emma, you know what it's like. You?" he asked.

Keeping her eyes on the white speckled formica table top, she shrugged, "You know… Actually, I tried that new pizza place, Liam's Slicery-"

"Good?" he asked, his mouth full of bacon.

Emma nodded, "Uh-huh… It was a little strange though, the guy who took my order was British, so was the delivery guy-"

"Yeah, the Jones brothers. Been in the states for years - you wouldn't think it, right?"

Ah, she thought. She was right about the accent.

"No, they seem fresh off the boat."

Graham let out a small laugh.

Feeling emboldened, she prodded further, "So, what do you know about these guys?" She tried to sound as offhand as possible.

"Called Liam and Killian - Liam's the older one. He's leasing premises from Mr. Gold, of course. The younger brother is staying around until everything is set up. He's some kind of sailor, apparently."

"Oh," Emma sighed in disappointment. So he wasn't sticking around, of course not. "Nothing we need to worry about then."

"I don't think so, but of course you know I keep an eye on all new arrivals." He then gave her a quick wink before downing the rest of his coffee, "You ready?"

Somehow, tracking down two lost horses had taken most of the day. They'd found the frightened mares hiding in the woods - it looked like some kids had set them free as badly executed prank.

Her feet ached from the hours of searching. She checked her watch as she turned the key in the lock of her apartment. Eight o'clock - not bad for her.

She hummed a little tune as she stripped off her clothes, laying a trail to the bedroom. She'd pick them up later - it wasn't like she had to worry about anyone seeing the mess.

Rather than her usual pajamas, Emma chose a pair of black leggings and a lilac t-shirt with a deep v-neck and a hem that reached just below her ass. She gathered her hair into a high pony tail and then checked her make-up; pretty good after 13 hours, she told herself.

Tonight she chose white wine - memories of her stained pyjamas that sat soaking in the tub colouring her choice. She hadn't gone grocery shopping yet, but tomorrow was Saturday - her first day off in six days - so she would make sure she woke early and filled her fridge then. Yes, that was the plan.

But tonight she flicked on the TV, sorted the mail (junk - again) and found her eyes flittering to the Liam's Slicery menu that she'd left on the kitchen countertop.

She shouldn't really. Pizza two nights in a row? All those carbs?

Still, the phone was in her hand and the number was dialled before she could further talk herself out of it. She ordered quickly - the man who answered tactfully seeming to ignore the fact that she had called the night before (they couldn't be that busy yet, right?).

Tonight's reruns were Married With Children. She tapped her foot as the canned laughter filled the small apartment, one eye on the clock, one on the door.

Twenty-nine minutes later there was a knock. Straightening her shirt, she bit her bottom lip, sinking the rest of her wine before dashing to the door.

"Hi," she answered with a large smile, her heart beating fast and only increasing when she saw him again.

Christ he was hot. Low slung dark-wash jeans and a black t-shirt. A mop of deep brown hair and matching stubble. A hint of muscle underneath his clothes and biceps she wanted to sink her fingers into. Yes please, she thought.

"Ten dollars," he said. She looked up into his eyes - had it been obvious she was staring?

"Oh, um-" She pulled a ten from her purse by the door. "I have the right change tonight," she continued, taking the offered box and standing awkwardly as he stuffed the note in his pocket. "So - you're new in town?"

"That obvious?" he quipped, with a crooked smile.

"Yeah, not too many British accents in these parts."

"And here I thought it was my attire that gave me away?"

She laughed. Damn, he was funny too.

"Almost. Well, welcome to Storybrooke."

"Thanks," he replied, scratching behind his ear as the security light outside the apartment dimmed from the lack of movement, "I like what I see so far. Not that I can stay too long, just helping get the business on its legs. My brother is Liam."

"Oh," she answered, trying to sound like this was news to her, also trying to keep the disappointment from her voice. "Well I'm Detective Emma Swan, Storybrooke P.D. Should you need any assistance in, um, the crime related area-"

"I know who to call," he finished, "Must be going - thirty minutes of less you know!". He gave a nod and then turned to leave. The security light flickered to life as she stood and watched five feet eleven inches of gorgeous man walk down the pathway.

She closed the door, the pizza almost forgotten as her mind began to fill with fuzzy thoughts and not so fuzzy thoughts: kissing him, pressing him up against the wall, fucking him on the dresser in her room.

Dashing to the fridge, she refilled her wine and took a big gulp. It had been so long since she had had a crush, it felt weird, but good. Harmless…

An idea formed, one she couldn't shake. Her head was full of images of the sexy stranger as she stumbled to her bedroom, slipped off her leggings and slid onto her bed, pressing her fingers into her underwear and letting her imagination run wild…


	2. Girl's Night In

**A/N - just a reminder this is the 'rom com' version of Emma. She's still a smart, capable, independent woman but I'm letting out her klutzy, kooky side!**

After returning from the grocery store with arms full of bags, she'd spent Saturday afternoon trying to give some semblance of order to her apartment: laundry detergent, bleach and the vacuum cleaner were her primary tools. Within two hours she had worked up a fairly decent sweat, emptied her laundry basket and tossed out all the empty shampoo and lotion bottles that seemed to congregate in her bathroom.

She made a turkey sandwich next, finally deciding to sort out that box of CDs which she had brought from Boston and then tossing most of them in another cardboard box marked 'donate'. Next it was time to organize her dresser -finding herself rustling through the crumpled mass of cotton and polyester, making piles for ironing and adding a few things to the donation box.

A sense of accomplishment drifted over Emma as she looked over her apartment: the tang of bleach in the air, surfaces sparkling and none of the usual clutter dotted around. Pleased with her efforts, she drifted over to the fridge and pulled out the bottle she had opened the night before.

_One more glass couldn't hurt, could it?_

Kicking off her Converse, she flopped onto the sofa and flicked on the TV.

Dirty Dancing, perfect.

The wine was gone by the time Baby had carried a watermelon. Another?  _Sure-_

Glass filled, empty bottle tossed in the recycling, she rejoined the action at Kellerman's. Legs curled up, her cheeks began to flush happily form the alcohol. She let herself imagine that she was Baby, running her palms over Jonny's bare chest.

_God she was so single._

She licked her lips: they were sweet and tacky from the wine. As the two characters swayed to the retro music, Emma let herself move too - feeling a little giddy as the wine flooded her veins and disappointed when the glass ran dry.

_More!_

A devilish smile lit up her face as she remembered the bottle of vodka under the sink that she kept for 'emergencies'. She pulled a can of diet Coke from the fridge and mixed herself a cocktail. The opening bars of 'I've had the time of my life' began to play as she made her way back to the living room, opting to dance along - her glass her wiling partner - feeling she was much more elegant than she actually was; even including a little head banging into the mix.

Buzzing and nowhere near ready to head to bed, she scooted down to the entertainment stand and rifled through her sparse DVD collection. Pulling out Pretty Woman, she flicked open the well-worn case and popped the disc into the DVD player.

Her sweater was quickly tossed aside as she let herself get lost in the fantasy world of Vivian and Edward.

The vodka was a little bitter at first, but her tongue soon became numb to the flavor. She let her body sink deeper into the soft cushions as the somewhat erotic sight of the heroine undressing her client. Pushing her thighs tightly together, she thought back to the last time she had actually had sex.

Seven, eight months ago? Oh God… That long?

His name had been Steve (or at least that's the name he'd given). Emma had picked him up on a night out before she had left Boston; they'd started making out just before the lights had came on at O'Reilly's bar and she'd decided they may as well continue the party at her place. It hadn't been exactly bad, but…

Sometimes all she wanted was a really good fuck - with someone hot and dangerous, who knew what they were doing. Someone who would just take her. Not much chance of that in Storybrooke, she mused. The only guy who had got her excited recently was a British pizza delivery guy - and hitting on someone when they were dropping off an order seemed like something from a bad porn movie.

She looked back at the screen, Vivian was spread out over the top of a baby grand piano, her lover placing kisses along her chest- Emma sank back the rest of her drink and dashed to the kitchen for a refill, keen to push away the melancholy introspection and return to the happy buzz of earlier.

"Bottoms up," she said to the frosty glass in her hand, giving the drink a small wink before she knocked back another mouthful.

Relaxed and limber again, she put the drink aside and tried to practice yoga poses as the last part of the movie played. She wasn't very successful - spending more time on her ass than anywhere else - but watching Edward climb Vivien's staircase with her head upside down certainly added a new edge.

As the credits rolled she flopped to the ground. Her head was pounding - either from the alcohol or her blood-rush-inducing pose. She panted gently, woozy and tired, but not ready to give up.

"Food!" she shouted to herself, flipping onto her feet and stumbling to the kitchen, where she bypassed the fully stocked cupboards and reached for the phone. Quickly she pressed speed dial button five, smiling when it was answered in only three rings.

"Liam's Slicery!" came the quick response.

"Hi!" she replied, far too loudly then continuing with a soft hiccup, "I'd like to order a  _piizzzzzaaa…"_

_§_

* * *

The third vodka was frankly unnecessary. As she freely poured a generous measure, she tuned into VH1, smiling when she saw they were having an 80's marathon.

 _Perfect,_ she thought as she started to bop around the living room to the sound of Cyndi Lauper.

Spinning around, drink in hand, she barely heard the knock at the door (the fact she had ordered pizza almost forgotten). Her head seemed to have become looser on her neck as she wandered over to the door, stopping to take another drink then fiddling one handed with the door chain before swinging it roughly open with a dramatic - "Hellllooooo!"

A broad shoulder back covered in blue flannel greeted her. Killian Jones.

She quickly swallowed and let her eyes drop to her visitors ass - the pockets of his jeans were hugging each cheek in an oh-so yummy way. She bit the inside of her cheek as her stomach did a little flip.

"Oh, hi," came his soft, almost drawling, reply as he turned around and flashed her a megawatt smile.

Damn, he was handsome. Nice lips, straight teeth, a dusting of soft scruff that she knew would feel amazing against her thighs-

"Pizza?" she asked, instantly wanting to kick herself at her most obvious of questions.

"Yes," he began, slowing nodding as he shifted the carton between his hands, "Your order?"

His voice rose up at the end, he was clearly a little confused.

"Yes, of course," she mumbled. "Ten dollars?"

Killian nodded and shifted on his feet.

Great, she thought, he thinks you are insane.

"Um, I left my purse upstairs, wanna come in?"

He reached up and scratched behind his ear, letting out a little gentle sigh before shrugging his shoulders. "Sure, why not. This is my last delivery of the night."

"Really?" she replied as he followed her through the doors, her heart secretly pounding as she digested the fact that the hot pizza delivery guy with the gorgeous accent who happened to be some kind of sailor was  _in her house_.

Cooly, she looked back over her shoulder, "Just a moment," she cooed as she dashed up the stairs, grabbing a ten and a couple of ones from her purse and quickly pulling a brush through her hair and checking her teeth.  _A six,_ she told herself with a one shouldered shrug, good enough under the circumstances.

Dashing back to the stairs, she took them two at a time, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she reached the bottom, just in time to tumble head first into his arms.

"Whoa!" she cried, feeling a jolt of pleasure when his strong arms wrapped around her waist.

"Hey there!" he laughed, steadying her and bringing her to a halt as she giggled breathlessly.

"Thanks," she whispered, her head abuzz from the alcohol and the scent of his musky aftershave.

Coyly, she pulled the bills from her jeans and handed them over. Without looking at it, he stuffed it into his pocket, a gently smile on his lips, "No problem, Emma Swan."

"You remembered?"

A small hopeful flutter lip up inside her chest and she rolled higher onto her toes.

"How could I forget?" he replied, his voice low and almost conspiratorial.

Her eyes flickered to the bottle of vodka on the countertop and an idea formed. "Hey - since you, you know, just saved my life-" he laughed "How about I repay you with a drink and a slice of pizza? Least I can do."

When he took a small step closer to her, Emma's mind began to spin.

"Well, you know one of the perks of working at a pizzeria is all the pie you want-" She withheld a frown until he continued, "But a drink sounds good."

"Great!" she chirped, relieved her somewhat awkward offer had been accepted. It wasn't like she was exactly an expert at seducing the delivery guy.

"Vodka?" she called as she wandered into the kitchen.

"Fine," he replied.

She heard him flicking through the TV channels, Duran Duran soon replaced by the opening music of Law and Order.

Taking two clean glasses, she prepared the drinks - popping in a few cubes of ice - shoving the fridge shut with her hip and attempting a sultry, loose hipped walk into the living room.

He was sat on the couch, knees spread wide, laid back like he belonged there. When he heard her approach, he turned his head and gave her a quick wink (which she may have made her ovaries explode) before taking the glass she held out with a breathy 'cheers'.

Despite her earlier bravado and still inebriated state, she suddenly felt a little awkward. At first she danced a little from toe to toe, then she perched on the arm of the sofa on the side furthest away from him.

"Are you gonna sit?" he asked, narrowing his eyes a little as she responded with a curt nod. "Good. Hey you don't mind Law and Order do you?"

"I love it," she lied. No, she hated it. Hated all procedural dramas. But sacrifices could be made.

Settling onto the couch, she crossed her legs towards him, her drink cool in her lap and her fingers toying with the throw cushion that lay between them. "Your drink okay?"

He nodded the affirmative, licking his lips and sending a shiver down her spine. She noticed the flannel he wore had the first four or five buttons undone, revealing a sexy layer of chest hair.

"And are you settling in okay? I mean I know you aren't staying so long…"

She shyly raised her shoulder between then and then dropped her gaze, looking at his though her fluttering lashes.

"No, I mean, until sleeping on Liam's spare futon gets old at least!"

"That bad, huh?" Emma murmured, sipping on her cocktail.

"I've had worse digs," he laughed, suddenly turning to face her and grabbing her gaze with his startling blue eyes. "And I've had the pleasure of meeting a lot of nice folk in town."

"Really?" she asked, her voice a little too high pitched and her vision flittering in and out of focus.

"Uh-huh," he nodded, not looking away as he took a drink.

The moment was there. Her stomach was twisting in knots at his closeness. He looked so good and she could still feel where his hands had caught her earlier. Hands she would like to feel on other parts of her body.

The show went to an ad break. She shifted the cushion onto her lap and shuffled a little closer, feeling his pleasant warmth begin to radiate against the bare skin of her arm.

She looked left. He was sipping on his drink, seemingly engrossed in an advertisement for Ritz crackers.

"So how long have you lived here?" he asked unexpectedly, catching her off guard.

"Oh," she began, wrinkling her brow, "Just over six months? I moved from Boston," she added.

"Great city."

She nodded.

Pull it together, Swan, she told herself, cooly dragging her hand through her hand though her hair and then resting it on the cushion.

"I used to work on a boat that did trips out of Massachusetts Bay."

Oh, so he  _is_ some kind of sailor.

"Now I do mainly private yachts, charter work - that kind of thing."

"Sounds fun," she mumbled absentmindedly as the commercials ended, "I like the ocean."

She let her fingers dance over the space between them. His hand was palm was flat on the sofa.

"Yeah? I'll take you out sometime, if I can borrow a boat I mean."

He was looking down at her, the glass paused half way to his mouth. His fingers twitched and brushed against hers. A hot flush passed over her. Her eyes dropped to his lips. His tongue darted out to moisten them - pink and lush.

"I'd like that," she mumbled, feeling her body tilt closer to his.

Then he was leaning too and her heart started to pound so hard she could hear the blood rushing passed her ears. "Grand."

She was swaying a little, her eyes fluttering closed when she felt his mouth close over hers.

Damn his lips were soft - and warm.

She shifted a little closer, fumbling to place her glass on the floor, enjoying the slow and sensuous motion of his lips and the way his tongue slipped into her mouth, toying with her own, as his hand dropped to her waist and held her tight.

God, he was a good kisser. Just the right combination of hard and soft. His scruff felt delicious against her chin and cheek, even through her drunken haziness.

Gently he was fingering her belt loops and pulling her onto his lap. She happily responded, ignoring the soft thud when her foot kicked her glass over.

Her arms wrapped around his firm shoulders. His knees lifted a little and she fell closer to him, so he was now leaning up into her kiss, their pace quickening, his fingers toying with the bare scrap of skin between her jeans and tank top-

_Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzz._

Killian's thigh was vibrating. Leaning back, she raised an eyebrow (while also enjoying his rather dishevelled appearance).

"Shit," he muttered, fumbling in his pocket for his phone. Emma pushed up on her knees to give him better access as he check the number, "Gotta take this," he apologized with an awkward smile.

Not quite sure what else to do, Emma sat back down on his muscular thighs and wrapped her arms around her waist - the first blasts of sobriety gushing through the cobwebs of drunkenness.

Killian nodded a few times, scratching his chin as he gave Emma a small smile. She sucked in a deep breath and slowly peeled herself from his lap, waiting quietly until he said 'goodbye'.

"Sorry love," he said apologetically, "Problems at the Slicery."

"Oh, um, okay…"

She pushed herself to her feet, tugging down her tank top as he stood too - the pair briefly looking each other up and down. "Okay-" Killian began, turing for the door, before swinging back. "Maybe another time?"

Emma nodded, feeling a swell of disappointment pool in her body, "Yeah, that would be… Nice."  _Lame!_ her subconscious shouted.

"Okay," he smiled. He almost looked nervous.

"Do you want my number?" she asked, biting her bottom lip.

He smiled and slipped his phone back in his pocket, "I've already got it - the database at the Slicery-"

"Oh" she replied, nodding lightly before she dashed to open the door. He followed, pausing on the threshold, "That was, um, nice?"

"Yeah, it was," he agreed, dropping a damp kiss on her cheek as he stepped out into the cold, Maine evening.

The door slammed and she sank to the floor.

_Fuckety, fuck, fuck, fuck!_


	3. Something called a social life

Slamming down the smoky-colored glass bottle, Emma wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Beside her, she knew Ruby was staring. In the five minutes since they had arrived in The Rabbit Hole she had been giving Emma a series of judging looks.

"What?"Emma asked, exasperated but refusing to meet the other woman's eye.

"Nothing,"Ruby lied, taking a sip of her own beer.

"This was your idea-"Emma began, swivelling on her barstool and switching her bottle to the other had so she and the brunette were now facing each other. Awkwardly she began to pull at the hem of her red sweater, feeling hot under Ruby's gaze.

"Look, I know we aren't exactly close or anything-"

Emma bristled at the honesty. In the six months she had lived in Storybrooke she had made a grand total of zero close girlfriends. Not that the women of the town hadn't tried - but she always seemed to be working or exhausted when she was invited somewhere.

"But you've really not been yourself for the past few days. This morning you didn't touch your hot chocolate, yesterday you said barely two words to Graham or me during breakfast…I'm just worried, is all."

Blushing, Emma dipped her head. Perhaps she needed to give Ruby a little more of her time.

"It's nothing,"she shrugged in reply while starting to pick at the paper label of the bottle. "Really."

Ruby nudged her stool a little closer and dropped her head so she could talk a little quieter. "Man problems?"

Emma flashed her a quick glance, "Kinda,"she reluctantly replied. God she wanted to let all this out but at the same time opening up wasn't something that Emma Swan was particularly good at.

"Come on,"urged Ruby, "You can tell me. We girls gotta stick together."She nudged Emma's shoulder and caused her to smile a little, placing the bottle on the bar.

"I met a guy…And we kissed, and I think he's blowing me off."

"You think?"Ruby asked with a raised brow. "Back up, tell me the whole story."She waved to the bartender to bring them two more drinks, dropping her elbow onto the bar top, "Go on."

How to tell someone you almost seduced the pizza delivery guy without sounding like a creep? That would be difficult.

"Well, I met him a few weeks ago…when he dropped something off at my house."

"Oh? What?"

Emma's face crumpled in embarrassment, "Pizza,"she whispered into the mouth of her bottle.

The small laugh in response only reddened her cheeks, "You hit on the pizza guy-"Ruby began, quickly pausing and starting to smile, "Wait - was it that hot English guy who I've heard about? K something - Kevin? Kane?"

"Killan-"Emma's head sprung round to look at Ruby's, "Wait - you've heard of him?"

"Uh, yeah! Hot guys don't regularly appear in our sleepy little town. He's been  _the_ hot topic of gossip between the ladies at Granny's."

Of course. How stupid was she? She could not have been the only one to have noticed his, um, charms.

"Shit. Well now I feel even more stupid…"

"What happened?"

Emma recounted the story of their meetings and the kiss and the phone call - "And that was almost two weeks ago and nothing."Her shoulders visibly sagged at the relief of sharing her frustration.

"Maybe he's been busy? Maybe-"

"-He regrets making out with the drunk woman?"

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Emma, you are gorgeous. If you actually came out with the girls once in a while, you would have men clawing all over themselves to get to you. Right now I can see at least two guys checking you out."

Emma sighed and folded her arms on the bar. It had always made her slightly uncomfortable, the concept of men finding her attractive. Obviously they did - it's not like she lived like a nun - but it was a much more palatable notion after five or six beers.

"Whatever. He didn't call and now I feel so goddamn stupid and I'm just hoping he skips town soon so I don't have to see him again."

"But you like him, right?"Emma gave her an exasperated look. "I'm just saying why don't you call him? Find out what happened? I mean, he liked you enough to make out with you-"

"Maybe, I just-"

She squirmed in her seat. Not drunk enough to have this conversation, nor drunk enough to delude herself that Ruby wasn't at least speaking some sense.

"Come on Emma! It's the 21st century. We women have to go for what we want."

"But I just feel so awkward, I was drunk - maybe he changed his mind? Maybe I came on so strong he had no choice?"She choked back the rest of her beer and then started work straight away on the freshone the bartender had left. "I'm not good at this."

"What?"Ruby asked.

Emma wriggled a little more uncomfortably under her glare, "Men, dating, you know…"

Ruby softly laughed. "If you have a fear of something you need to confront it head on."

"As in…"

"Call the restaurant. Wait for him to deliver it and then-"

"And then-?"

Ruby shrugged and sipped on her beer. "And then you'll know-"

 _And then I'll know,_ Emma thought as she tapped her fingers on the bar.  _And then I'll know…_

§

* * *

The next night she did just as Ruby suggested. They had talked it over and decided that an early delivery would be better - before the Slicery got busy and then Emma would call Ruby with an update as soon as possible.

Twenty-five minutes had passed since she had replaced the receiver and she hadn't been able to sit still. She'd checked her makeup, rearranged the food in the fridge and darted around with a feather duster looking for non-existent dirt.

_Ding-dong._

Nervously she brushed her hair away from her face and licked her lips. She placed upon her mouth a fixed smile - intending to look light and carefree (and a million miles from the churning insecurity inside). Clutching the handle, the door swung open easily.

"That'll be $10."

For a moment, Emma paused, slightly dumbstruck. Instead of the expected Killian, there stood a tall, gangly redheaded boy, with braces and a backwards baseball cap.

"Um,"she mumbled, searching in her jeans pocket for the pre-prepared bills. "Hmmm…"

"Ten dollars,"he repeated, holding out the cardboard box.

Slowly she held out the bills and began to grasp the box with one hand, "Are you new?"she asked, heart pounding a little in anticipation.

_Had Killian left town already? Was he avoiding her? Was-_

"Kinda, I usually work in the kitchen. Covering deliveries tonight, though."

"Oh?"Emma asked, keeping a tight hold on the bills even as the boy gave her a questioning look.

"Yeah…"he nodded, tugging the money from her hands, "Usual guy has a date or something."

_A date?_

_Of course._

Blood started to pound in her ears and she felt a little sick.

"Thanks,"the boy called out as she stepped back into the apartment in a daze. The pizza was dropped onto the small table by the door. She shook her head slowly as she made her way to the kitchen.

 _Of course he was!_  Half the single women in Storybrooke had their eye on him, why would it be a surprise that someone would have caught his eye? She had been so stupid. Why on Earth did she think that stupid kiss meant anything? And he hadn't called-

The disappointment stung bitterly as she picked up her phone.

"Sooo?"Ruby squealed after one and a half rings.

Emma paused, taking the time to sit and lower her head onto her left palm until she replied, "He's on a date."

"He's on a  _what?_ "

"It's hardly surprising news,"Emma sighed, "Like you said, hot guys aren't exactly flooding into Storybrooke. I'll get over it."

"Emma…"Ruby whined. Emma could practically see the sad eyed look Ruby was giving her over the phone line. "Get ready. We're going out."

"I have work tomorrow-"Emma protested.

"You work too much. It's Friday night, Emma. Let me take you out. I hate the idea of you brooding away in that damn apartment of yours."

She should say no. Feign a headache, go to bed early with a book. But the reality was she actually didn't want to be alone tonight. Too many quiet nights with just the TV and four walls to keep her company had taken their toll.

Too deflated to protest, Emma replied with a breathy 'fine'.

"Great. Put on a dress and some lipstick and I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Quietly Emma dropped the receiver and slumped to her room.

§

* * *

When Ruby had arrived she had instantly expressed scorn for the blue cotton sundress Emma had chosen. "Emma, we are young, attractive, successful women. We've gotta dress to show it!"

She had pulled her upstairs and chosen a fitted black number that Emma hadn't worn in almost a year. "Isn't this a little much for Storybrooke?" she asked as Ruby thrust a glass of wine into her hand.

"Friday night, anything goes and hon, the best way to take your mind off one guy, is to flirt with another."

Actually, she knew Ruby was right. Every time a guy had screwed her over, she had found solace in a night out drowning her troubles with a little harmless flirting. She nodded, pulling of the blue dress and allowing Ruby to zip her into the black one and toss a tube of red lipstick in her direction.

"Perfect. Come on, time to go!"

§

* * *

"Again?" Emma sighed as they pulled up outside The Rabbit Hole.

"Storybrooke isn't exactly teeming with nightlife," Ruby laughed as she paid the cab driver and then went inside.

Emma had to eat her words a little when they got to the bar. The music was pleasantly loud and a younger crowd than usual filled the space. A band was setting up in the corner. She smiled as they ordered a couple of rum and Cokes.

"Thanks," she said as Ruby handed over her drink, "This was a much better idea than sitting home alone, brooding."

"Exactly," she smiled, slinking their classes together. "Girl rule number one - we don't waste time on guys who don't want us. Plenty more fish in the sea."

"Aye to that," Emma replied, sinking back her drink as they both lay back against the bar.

"So," Ruby began, leaning closer, "See anyone you like?"

Emma scanned the thick crowd, all she could see were the backs of heads and half faces. Who knew this place got so busy on a weekend. "It's pretty busy…"

"Yeah, it's crazy. Sometimes I wonder where these people hide every day. I guess even in a small town, people want to let off a little steam sometimes."

Bobbing her head to the music, Emma let herself relax properly for the first time in days. The atmosphere was almost electric as people thronged through the bar, greeting friends and sipping beers. She'd hidden away so much from the social side of life in this small town, she'd almost let herself believe it didn't really exist.

Eventually they found a table in the corner opposite the small stage, that gave them a view over most of the bar as it was on a slightly raised platform. Emma had purchased a pitcher of margaritas and the two were working their way though it as a few guys finished setting up the drum kit and microphones.

"Testing, one, two-"

"Are these guys any good?" Emma asked, gesturing to the stage.

"Not bad, I mean, there are only about three bands in town so they're all here at some time or another."

Emma rubbed the salty rim of her glass with her thumb as the band settled in their positions. The drummer tapping out a few quick riffs and the guitarist tuned his guitar as they prepared. She refilled their drinks as they waited for the music to start. There was a pleasant hubbub of noise around them. She was beginning to forget her embarrassment and self-consciousness. How had she gotten so worked up over a guy? One she barely knew? Ha!

She was just beginning to relax properly, when there was small commotion. Someone was rushing through the bar, pushing past people. Emma craned her neck so see a dark haired man carrying a guitar heading towards the stage.

_So that was the hold up-_

Her mouth went dry when the late addition stepped onto the stage.

_No - it couldn't-_

But before she could dismiss the notion, he was slipping the guitar strap over his shoulder and stepping up to one of the mounted mics.

"Oh, shit-"

"What?" Ruby asked, whipping around to face her, concern on her face.

"It's him. On guitar." Emma sighed, dropping her head into her hands.

"I didn't know he was a musician?"

"Well neither did I!" she hissed, "I mean, we've talked for a grand total of ten minutes!"

Fuck. What was life doing to her? Really - was it some joke? As if she needed to feel any more stupid-

Their conversation was shortened when the opening bars of 'All Along The Watchtower' began to fill the room. Emma caught her breath when Killian began to strum on his acoustic guitar and the first silky words came out of his mouth, ' _There must be some kinda way out of here, said the joker to the thief._ '

"Are you shitting me?" she whispered to herself.

" _There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief_."

"Damn, he can sing," Ruby muttered into her ear.

"Apparently so," Emma huffed, feeling hot and uncomfortable as the music continued. "I need to go-"

"Emma!" Ruby whined, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer, "Look, maybe he is a jerk, but we were having a fun time. Please don't go. Let's take these drinks and we can go into the back room. You can forget he's there."

Slowly, she nodded and Ruby grabbed the pitcher and started to lead Emma towards the other small bar behind the stage. Emma tried to keep her eyes straight ahead, but as they passed the stage Killian looked down into the crowd.

" _So let us not talk falsely now, The hour's getting late_ -"

And just as he sang the words 'talk falsely' their eyes met and Emma's heart thumped heavily, unable to stop looking as he narrowed his gaze and his fingers fumbled for the next chord, following her and Ruby until they pushed their way into the other room.

"He saw me," Emma huffed as they settled in a cozy, claret velvet lined booth.

"And?" Ruby questioned, emptying the pitcher, "So?"

"So…"

Emma couldn't think of an answer that didn't have an air of desperation. So he saw her - so what? He didn't know how she felt. He didn't know she was there tonight to drown her sorrows over _him_ …

"You know what? So, nothing. Let's have another margarita!"

§

* * *

Almost an hour later they were both into another round of drinks and Emma had come to regret not getting to know Ruby better, earlier. She was funny, sweet - a little crude maybe - but most of all caring.

A tall blonde guy had wandered over to talk to them, but soon he had fixed his attentions on the brunette and Emma smiled, chewing on her straw. Feeling relaxed, she stretched out and crossed her legs out over the end of the booth, rolling her glass in her hands as  _that music_  from the band next door began to soften.

She heard the two beside her move closer and she smiled, deciding now may be a good time to go to the washroom or get another drink and slipping her feet to the floor. Just then, the door from the main bar opened and she was shocked to see Killian Jones standing in front of her.

"Emma,"he smiled.

"Hey,"she squeaked, looking awkwardly at the floor. "Killian-"

He reached up and stroked his stubbled chin. Did he look happy to see her? She thought so. But then she remembered he had been on a date earlier-

"I saw you in the other room, I though you left-"

"No, um-"

She had no idea what to say. She was uncomfortably hot and started to fidget with the strap of her purse, unable to think straight, only one question arising -

"I thought you were on a date-"she blurted out.

 _Shit, shit, shit -_ she muttered internally, dropping her eyes to the floor and clutching her near empty glass.

"Um, what? I mean-"

Feeling awkward, Emma shuffled to the small bar at the back to the room.

"Emma?"he called, lightly touching her shoulder until she turned around.

"Yep?" she quipped, trying to sound bright and breezy but her face crumbling when she finally looked into his pretty blue eyes.

"I'm confused. I've been wanting to speak to you for days-"

"You have?"

He smiled, "Yeah. When I left your place that night, the whole system had gone down at the Slicery and I lost your number and address, so I kinda waited for you to call- I really like you. I thought-"

She sighed softly, "Really? I mean, that kid delivering tonight said you were on a date-"

"Bryan?" Killian shook his head, "That kid is so dumb. I had a gig - guest vocals with the band here, not a date."

A feeling of foolishness crept over her. She placed her glass on the bar and gestured for a refill as she processed her thoughts.

"Urgh, Killian, I-"

She wasn't sure what to say, until he wrapped a hand around her elbow and eased her back to face him, she had to tilt her back slightly so she could look into his eyes - he was that close.

"I'm an idiot. I knew where you worked, but I felt stupid chasing after you. But then I saw you tonight-"

He stopped and looked deep into her eyes. Something inside her started to burn; her cheeks reddened and her breath quickened.

"You like me?" she asked, instantly feeling the childishness of such a question.

"I think so," he admitted, leaning in close and nudging her nose with his. "Maybe I can take you on a date tomorrow and find out for sure."

And despite herself, Emma smiled and hung her fingers into his belt loops, tugging his hips a little closer, "Why don't we start now?"she asked, reaching up onto her toes and giving him a small, soft kiss.

"Even better,"he purred, nudging his nose against her neck as she turned back to the bar and ordered him a beer.

 


	4. Getting it on

_You like me?_

Emma wanted to mentally kick herself for coming out with such a clichéd line, but she was too busy currently enjoying the way he felt pressed up tight behind her, his arm lying on the bar beside hers as she waited for the bartender to finish serving the last customer.

Was this really happening?

A hot, seemingly normal and gainfully employed man had shown an interest in her. She wanted to pinch herself, surely-

"Emma!"

The shrill high pitch of Ruby's scream had Emma flying around to search for her friend. She immediately saw her, sitting on the floor, her hand grasped around her ankle.

"Oh my god!"Emma cried, pushing away from the bar and crossing the few feet to her friend. "What did you do?"

Ruby frowned and pointed at the five-inch spiked stiletto in her hand.

Emma shook her head, "Can you walk?"she asked, holding out her arm as she twisted back to give Killian a smile and a mouthed 'I'm sorry'. He nodded in reply and began to make his way over to the two women.

"Ow, fuck!"Ruby whispered loudly as she tried to stand, leaning heavily on Emma's arm, making her wobble on her own heels.

"Is your friend okay?"Killian asked as he reached them.

Sticking out her hand, Ruby gave him a huge smile.

"Ruby, Killian, Killian, Ruby,"Emma explained, groaning a little as Ruby stumbled and pressed her fingers tighter into her arm. She hissed in pain, "We gotta get you home."

"No, seriously, I'm fine-"Emma sighed and looked at her friend's already swollen foot.

"No you're not, I need to get ice on that as soon as possible."

Killian looked a little awkward, "I'd give you a ride but I gotta be back on stage soon-"

Emma's brow creased as she realized her date was over before it had even started. "I'm sorry-"she began.

"No need,"he replied, shaking his head and smiling as Ruby tightened her arm around Emma's waist.

"Rain check?" she asked, hopefully not sounding too desperate.

"I'm free tomorrow - I mean, I can get Bryan to cover, he'd love the tips-"

"Deal,"Emma smiled before he could finish his reply. She dug her hand into the purse over her shoulder and handed him her phone. "I think I should take your number this time."

"Good idea,"he nodded, biting his lip in a sinfully sexy way as he tapped in the digits.

"Thanks,"she whispered as he slipped it back into her purse, brushing her arm against his and making her skin tingle.

After a brief goodbye, Emma helped Ruby to the front of the bar, leaving her to lean against a wall as she called a cab.

"So…" Ruby raised her brows and licked her lips, grinning stupidly at Emma until her own poker face cracked.

"I fucked up, he fucked up, he likes me."

"Uh-huh,"Ruby giggled, "You two looked pretty cozy - sorry I ruined it."

"If it wasn't for you I wouldn't even be here tonight, you knucklehead!"She gave the brunette a playful slap on the cheek, "And I can wait one more day."

"And I can't wait to hear all about it!"

§§§

* * *

Of course this would be the day that there was a pile up on Main Street (I mean, how was that even possible?), a fight in the grocery store over discounted eggplants and, to top it all off, Graham had called in sick and she ended up having to file paperwork and process over a dozen suspects herself.

It was almost five and she was knee deep in a stack of manila file folders when she decided to call Killian. Apologizing profusely, she explained her work problems and how she probably wouldn't be done 'til at least nine or ten.

"Okay,"he replied simply - not giving anything away about his feelings on the subject by the tone in his voice.

"Another time?"she asked cautiously.

"Sure-"he began, before pausing briefly, "Look, I gotta go - call you later?"

"Sure,"she agreed, creasing her brow as she pressed disconnect.

A sinking sensation crept over her, making her feel a little sick as she stared at her phone as the backlight turned off. He seemed so quiet and different from last night.

She looked back at the paperwork still left to complete and sighed, pushing the phone away.

§§§

* * *

It wasn't often that Emma let herself linger in the bathtub, but tonight it was definitely needed. It had been almost ten when she had arrived at home, too tired to even worry about eating. She had dug out some fancy bath oils she had gotten last Christmas and filled the bath - even going so far as to light a couple of candles and bring her old portable radio into the room.

Tonight, she just needed to switch off. There hadn't been time to think all day so she grabbed an old CD and her bathrobe from her bedroom and sunk into the hot waters - enjoying the way her skin was slightly singed and the heat made her drowsy.

The sound of the doorbell chime was the last thing she expected to hear as she lay with a damp face cloth over her eyes and Mariah Carey blasting out one of her late-90s chart toppers. Sitting up, she stilled, waiting to see if it had been her imagination. There was a second chime and then the sound of someone knocking on the door.

"Shit,"she muttered to herself, as she pulled her body out of the water and tugged on her toweling robe. Opening the door to the bathroom she shouted, "Just a second!"as she rubbed her legs and feet dry.

Padding down the hall, she wondered who on earth would be calling on her this late - actually, who would be calling on her at all. It wasn't like she was overwhelmed by visitors.

"Hello?"she said as she pulled open the door. The security light had broken the night before so the only faint light came from the distant street lamps and it took her a second to realize who it was. "Killian?"

"Guilty,"he smiled, stepping a little closer with a huge pizza box under one arm and a six pack of beer in the other hand. "Can I come in?"

"S-sure,"she said, slightly bewildered and feeling just a little self-conscious dressed only in a thigh-skimming robe. "I was just taking a bath-"

"Am I interrupting?"he asked, his brow creasing just a little.

"Um, no, of course not, come in, sit, I-"

She was babbling. She did that when she was nervous, or so friends in Boston had told her (the same ones that said she put on a British accent after too many vodkas). Blushing, she pulled the door aside.

"I brought food - perk of the job."

Emma nodded, still confused.

"You couldn't make our date, so I thought I'd bring the date to you."

_Was this really happening?_

"I-"She was blushing more furiously now, not quite sure what to say. He had come to her apartment. It was - sorta romantic? Or something like that. These kinds of things didn't happen in real life - did they?

"I thought,"he continued - and was he blushing too, his cheeks were a little pink - "Maybe, well-"he shifted on his feet, bobbing his head fem side to side as he dipped his head and looked at her through his lashes. "I like you, like I said. And, well, here I am."

Slightly stunned, Emma stood smiling like a goon for a few seconds before she shook her head and took a deep breath. Toying with the belt of her robe, she replied, "Really, um wow. I mean - thank you?"

She cringed a little inside again -  _thank you_? "I mean, I'm glad you're here. Um, sit and, I just need to-"

There was an awkward little shuffle as she moved aside to let him in. He passed close by and she was acutely conscious that her robe had fallen into a deep v between her breasts and she was pretty sure he was looking straight down her cleavage.

Quickly he placed the pizza and beers on the small table in front of the TV, before pivoting on his heel - "You know, I don't normally do this,"he admitted.

Gently she closed the door and took a step in his direction,"Do what?"she asked coyly.

"Hit on women I barely know. I mean especially ones I'm delivering pizza to, but also in general."

Emma was just about to laugh and call his bluff with a haughty 'yeah right' but then she saw the way he was scratching behind his ear and straightening his shoulders. "I mean, kissing you the other night, that was very out of character for me."

"Me too, I mean…" she swallowed, having a mental battle with herself over whether or not to admit - "I was a little drunk."

He reached up and touched his lip before biting it with his perfectly straight white teeth (was he really perfect?). "Yeah," he laughed, "I figured. Look, I guess what I'm trying to say is I like you-"

Emma's heart dropped, the world seemed to slow as the hot-as-sin man in front of her told her (again) that he liked her.

She let her hips sink to the side and her fingers toyed with the belt of her robe. "You already said that."

Killian's eyes turned a little darker and started to wander over her body. He closed more of the gap between them until she didn't have to reach far to touch him. "I mean I really, really like you."

"You barely know me," she whispered, her crazy heart racing from his words and his smell and just having him so close - damn - why did he have this effect on her?

"So?"

The lazy smile that curled up her lips mirrored his own. "So…" She couldn't think of an answer or a reason to give him to justify her previous statement. "So what do you want, Killian Jones?"

He quickly blinked, glancing to the the rug they stood on, his tongue caught between his teeth.

"Can I be frank?" he asked with a raised brow. She nodded in reply, her lips slightly parted. "I'm very, very attracted to you, and.…"

"Huh?" she chirped as she felt her skin start to burn and her hips roll involuntarily towards his.

"You know my situation. I'm always on the move, never staying anywhere long enough to, you know-"

"Uh-huh-" she nodded, a strong idea of where this was going but desperate to hear the words come out of his mouth.

"So I thought we-"

"We..?" She looked up watched his Adam's apple bob gently as he slowly swallowed. His hand reached out and before she could think, his fingers were wrapped around the bow of her dressing gown.

The answer was in the way he looked her up and down. He  _wanted_ her. His eyes had narrowed and a heady wave of lust knocked the air from her lungs.

In her head, a sensible part of her was saying this could lead to nothing good. Sex with no strings? Can't work. But as she looked again over his handsome face and sexy smile all reservations were thrown straight out of the window.

"Okay," she nodded, enjoying the way his eyebrows raised and the brief, heart-stopping second where he began to tug on her belt before she reached forward and grabbed his t-shirt in her fist.

A surprised gasp came from Killian's mouth as she reached up to kiss him. She wound one arm around his shoulder and the other around his waist.

He felt good. Just the right size that meant she could sling her thumb in his belt above his ass. She swept her other hand into his hair as they kissed, his hand working deeper into her robe. For a man he had damn soft lips and they were just full enough to cushion every urgent motion they made.

When his fingers touched the skin of her stomach she dug her teeth into his bottom lip, rolling it until he pulled back from her.

"You're overdressed," she muttered.

Twisting his mouth into a side smile, one hand reached upwards to grab his shirt from behind his neck. Slowly, he peeled it away, balling it up and tossing it onto the sofa. "Better?" he asked.

Nodding, she hungrily eyed his chest, its blanket of dark hair not hiding the lean muscles she had felt beneath his shirt. "Much better."

The way he licked his lips as she purred her reply was positively sinful and she found herself dragging him back until her legs hit the sofa and he fell softly on top of her.

"Hi," she whispered as their eyes met.

His breathy 'hey' had her thighs clenching.

He seemed to instantly find that spot on her neck that was both ticklish and incredibly erotic at the same time. Beneath him, her hips were wriggling and she grasped his body with both hands - damn his skin was soft.

"Oh," she moaned, his kisses dipping lower, down the v of her robe, nipping at her fleshy upper breast as she pushed her waist up into his chest. "Wow-"

Oh fuck, then his hand was inside her robe and just the feel of him touching her naked skin had the heat between her thighs intensifying. Feeling bold, she reached up and pulled the upper part of her robe aside.

"Damn," he mumbled into her chest, licking a stripe over one nipple as she squeezed her eyes shut - one hand palming a breast as he sucked and flicked against the other.

_This was happening._

She was getting it on with the pizza guy. The  _hot_ pizza guy.

"You're gorgeous," he growled - working back up to her lips.

"You're not bad yourself," she quipped, wrapping her legs around his waist, groaning when she felt the tell tale hardness pressing against her hip. "Wanna take this somewhere more comfortable?"

And damnit he winked.

 _Shit,_  she was always a sucker for that kind of thing.

Rolling her hips one more time (so he let out another panted gasp) Emma untangled herself from him, slipping her feet to the floor and straightening her robe. "What are you waiting for?" she asked as she stood - swinging her hips while she walked towards her bedroom, hearing him hurrying behind.

He caught up with her just as she walked through the door, tugging on her loosely tied belt until it came undone and the robe fell open. Spinning around, she took hold of the front of jeans and dragged him into her room.

As she fumbled with his fly and reached up for another breathless kiss, she silently cursed herself for all the crap she left lying around her room - clothes, make-up, stray socks. Not exactly the greatest first impress-

But then,  _fuck,_  he had pushed down his jeans and somehow kicked off his shoes, his hands were on her naked waist - running up and down and making her shiver as her robe was hanging by her sides.

Feeling bold (or maybe reckless) she pushed her hand between the two, quickly making contact with his considerable erection as it strained against the thin cotton of his underwear. Hot and hard and smooth, she ran her fingers up and down the length a few times until he started to nip at her neck again - this time harder, sucking in her skin, just on the right side of painful.

Slipping her hand under his waist band, she felt him properly for the first time. Inferno hot, jutting forward, she ran her fingers over the swelling veins of his cock while his own hands reached her ass, fingers squeezing in until she could feel the pinch of his fingernails.

"I can't believe this is happening," she whispered, tossing back her head and pressing her finger tighter.

"Me either," he murmured in her ear, simultaneously scooping her up and walking the few steps to her unmade bed where he set her down on the edge.

"Seriously?" she sighed as he started to kiss a trail down over the collar bones and between her breasts while she slipped her robe over her shoulders, "You must have women hitting on you all the time…Oh!"

His tongue was lapping against her stomach as he palmed each breast, working her nipples into a stiff peak.

"Nope," he quipped as he licked a circle around her navel - her stomach cramping at the ticklish sensation - "I'm quite the innocent."

"Yeah right-"

Looking up, he was biting his lip - again- when she locked eyes with him. There was something mischievously sexy about the way he looked at her: all dark eyes and flushed cheeks. She felt her own pupils dilate with unrepentant want for the sexy man lying between her thighs. It felt easy - unforced. Maybe this was so easy because she barely knew him. Maybe because she knew he wasn't staying around. Maybe.

Emma had almost forgotten her practically naked state, until she realized he was slipping to his knees. Her feet were flat on the floor and before she could react, he was pressing her knees wider apart, his mouth working along her protruding hip bone, one hand still toying with her breasts.

The muscles of her stomach were spasming, rippling more as his lips brushed her strip of blonde curls.

His tongue invaded her folds before she could think more, teasing them apart, flicking against her clit until she couldn't resist the urge to dig her fingers into his hair. "Oh fuck…"

"You like that?" he teased, one finger toying at her entrance as he gave her a hazy, lust filled grin.

"What do you think, sailor?" she sassed, pushing her hips up to his mouth until he took the hint.

Now, normally, Emma would be squirming in pleasure  _and_ embarrassment at this point. But with his head between her thighs and his wicked tongue teasing her sinfully, all thoughts of being bashful plummeted away with a flick of his fingers and the scrape of his teeth against her clit.

"Mmmm.." she groaned, coming around his fingers, hard but soft at the same time. Definitely more of an appetiser.

She was ready for the entree.

He lifted himself up and she was vaguely aware of him pulling off his underwear until he was leaning over her again, resting on his forearms, a few inches from her face, his lips red and moist, his hair delightfully ruffled from her fingers.

"Your turn-"

Ambling on to the bed above her, she eyed his erection as it swung slightly between his legs -getting her first good look at exactly what she was getting herself into. She swallowed heavily.

"On your back," she demanded, pushing his shoulder until he rolled over with a soft 'umph' and a breathy laugh.

Without hesitating, she dived forward, straddling his legs and taking him one hand, slipping her lips over his straining tip.

Mmm, he felt good in her mouth. Hot. Satiny skin. She rocked her hand a little until he joined her in an easy rhythm and the unoccupied fingers went to massage his balls.

"Oh shit-" he moaned above her. She felt a small swell of pride at his response - his vocalisations prompting her to take him deep within her throat - holding back her gag reflex as she swallowed around him. "Fuck -  _damn_ -"

He was panting, his legs were moving restlessly below her, one set of fingers gently guiding her head. The heat between her legs was rising again after the cooling sensation of her earlier orgasm.

Snapping back her head, he popped out softly between her lips.

"I can't wait any more-"

"Fuck me neither," he agreed, his chest heaving.

She scrambled up the bed, pulling open the drawer of the bedside table, rooting around for the pack of condoms she  _knew_ she had put there (just in case).

He was kissing her shoulder as she searched, his still damp cock pressed against her back - damn it was distracting. Blindly her fingers fumbled until with a triumphant 'yes' she pulled out the small box, removing a little foil packet from the strip. "Here," she whispered, "Quicker if you do it."

"Aye."

Lying back on her pillow, she counted the moments it took him put on the condom and roll back into her arms.

"That was quick-" she smiled as she let him settle once more between her legs.

"I hope you aren't saying that later, love."

A small laugh was cut short when he lined himself up, nudging her legs wider as he pushed his hips into hers. He was supporting himself on his forearms again, this time looking down between them, watching himself slowly disappear inside her.

_And holy hell, did he feel good._

Just the right side of thick and long, when he bottomed out he paused a second, nuzzling into her neck, before he started to gently rock.

"Oh," she moaned, feeling the blissful sensation of her muscles loosening and time slowing down. Listlessly, she rolled her own hips back and forth to meet him, giving her just that extra bit of friction. "Shit-"

All she could hear was his heavy breathing against her neck. All she could feel was him - but he was everywhere. Inside her, moving just the right side of slow. His hands cupping her shoulders as each thrust became a little bit harder, a little bit more urgent.

"You amazing," he breathed into her chest as he reached down to kiss across her breasts once more. Her limp arms wrapped round his back, pressing against the muscles of his shoulder blades and their thin layer of sweat.

"I'm close," she replied, though not a response to his words, it was all she could really manage as the tension formed a ball in her belly.

"Wait," he moaned, deftly rolling them over and tugging her knees until they bent and she was sat on top of him. "I wanna see you. Ride me-"

Feeling wanton and desired as he watched her with lidded eyes and his hands on her hips, she rocked against him, working her own hands up her chest, feeling him so deep inside her she wanted to scream (it was that fucking fantastic).

When she reached her hair, she balled it up in her fists and piled it on her head, holding it in place as she upped the pace.

"Christ-" he cried in his gorgeous accent, "Do you realize how sexy you are?'

His words spurred her on. Faster. Swirling her hips. Leaning forward a little to get just that extra pressure on her clit that had everything going hazy-

"Come with me-"

He didn't need to be asked twice, his grip tightened as he started to pump faster inside of her, snapping together their bodies together so the room was filled with the sound of slapping skin and panting breaths.

One, two, three quick thrusts and it was all over. Her muscles cramped. Her mind went pleasantly blank. Hot sparks darted through her body and along her limbs, followed quickly by a soft, drowsy feeling.

Smiling and very satisfied she let her body fall on top of his - his chest still heaving with heavy breaths as his hand came to her sweaty, tangled hair.

And that's went reality began to peek in.

_She had just fucked the pizza delivery guy._


End file.
